


Star Trek Drabbles!!

by Voiid_Vagabond (Saturn_the_Almighty)



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Angst, Blood, CDs, Captain's log, Drabbles, Episode s02e01 Amok Time, Eye Trauma, Love Confessions, M/M, Mild Gore, Oblivious James T. Kirk, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Recordings, Rewrite, Tarsus IV, To Be Continued, Tumblr drabbles, prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2020-06-24 21:51:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19732468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saturn_the_Almighty/pseuds/Voiid_Vagabond
Summary: What it says on the box.





	1. He Stays

**Author's Note:**

> This was an idea I had and it refused to go away until I wrote a quick little thing about it. I may turn it into a full work later, when I'm not swamped with twelve other projects.
> 
> Dedicated to [MistyP](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistyP) because I love you and you yelled at me...

Spock stays on Vulcan. T'pring doesn't have ulterior motives, no bitchiness from her, no Stonn, no Kalifee. So Spock stays on Vulcan. And Kirk has to leave. Before he goes, Spock tells him to clean out his quarters and beam everything down. Kirk complies. He has to. He doesn't want to and it hurts but he does.

And while moving everything to the transporter room he stumbles across a disk. An ancient little thing. It warms Kirk's melancholy heart to see it. It's in a clear protective case and he turns it over in his hand, idly wondering what could be on it.

In Spock's clean script are a few perfectly spaced words.

**_This is everything I didn't say._ **

Kirk tucks it into his uniform before he has time to sit and let the tears fall. He misses Spock. They haven't even left orbit yet but he _misses_ his first officer _so much._ The rest of Spock's belongings are beamed down and Kirk has Uhura update the list of occupied quarters. He would do it himself but he doesn't know if he has the control not to break down.

They didn't even get a proper goodbye.

T'pring practically dragged her bondmate away-- _and god does that word hurt--_ leaving Kirk and Bones to beam up alone. Kirk lays the CD carefully on the desk in his quarters. He falls asleep at the desk, tears staining the arm of his uniform as he rests his head. When he wakes up, reality is a punch to the gut. They're still in orbit, repairs and restocking almost done.

Kirk has to choose a new first officer.

No one can replace Spock, he thinks bitterly. He doesn't need-- doesn't _want_ anyone else. Spock was-- _is_ the love of his life. He doesn't want to let that go. Wishes he didn't have to. Kirk glares at the CD.

 _ **This is everything I didn't say.**_  
Everything you didn't _want_ to say.

He pushes the CD away, turns his head so he doesn't have to look at it. There isn't a CD player on board, of course. The nearest working one he knows of is at starbase 9, and that's 24 lightyears away. For that-- to know what Spock recorded-- Kirk would have to leave Vulcan. There was no telling whether they'd let him back down without an urgent reason.

So he washes his face, steps onto the bridge like there isn't an entire person, a whole heart and soul, love and life and so much more-- missing-- and he puts his hands on the back of Uhura's chair and asks if she'd like to be promoted to first officer.

Uhura does him the honor of pretending she didn't hear the way his voice cracked.


	2. I love you (logically)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> spocksleeve asked: 
> 
> TOS... SPIRK... Spock making very deliberate (but logical) advances on Kirk... Jim finally confronts him about it. You decide what happens after that.
> 
> Oop-- kinda lost the thread of the prompt, but I had fun...

"Captain's Log, private, Stardate… never mind that, it's not important. This is, ahem--" Kirk turned away from the recorder, leaning across his desk to reach the computer.

"Computer, maintain that this log and it's access will be restricted to me alone." He said.

The computer whirred and clicked, paired with the familiar _"computing."_

_"Restricting access of Captain's Log number 1633, incomplete… access restricted."_

Kirk nodded. "Alright then." He cleared his throat, turning back to the recorder. His hands sat on the desk, balled into fists. He opened them, splaying his hands out flat on the cold surface. His palms slid easily with all the sweat.

He really needed to stop. He knew, everyone knew, how sweaty his hands got when he was nervous, when there was something troubling on his mind.

"Resume recording… This is no doubt going to be one in a series of logs. There has been something odd going on. There always is, on this ship, the things we do, places we go. Nevermind, I'm getting off-track."

He gazed across the room at the dim, diffused light cast on his bed.

"Spock has been acting out of character. Not enough for me to assume there's something dangerously wrong, but just ever so slightly-- off?"

Kirk raised the recorder sensitivity and stood from his chair. Hands clasped behind his back, he began stiffly pacing the room.

"I will now, in as much detail as my memory will allow, recall the instances which have caused me to-- ah…" Kirk stopped, a smile creeping up on him.

"I'm starting to sound like him, aren't I?" He asked the empty room.

"No matter. Instance one. Approximately two ship cycles ago."

* * *

Spock was waiting near the turbolift when Kirk stepped through, fresh from the cafeteria and ready to start his alpha shift, no doubt with several coffees running through his veins. His attention was on McCoy as the doctor spoke about the injuries crewmembers had sustained from their most recent baffling space incident. 

Jim handed off his PADD to McCoy as they parted. He was distracted for the moment. Spock reached out, his hand unsteady. Faces, eyes, attentions were all elsewhere. No one would see him. No one would question.

Spock had felt the urge, the _need_ to give in to his more human side recently. Not strong enough that he didn't just shove it aside and bury it under a thin layer of deep red sand as he did all his errant and illogical emotions.

These urges always cropped up more often when Kirk, when _Jim_ was near. And Spock tried to ignore that too but he was first and foremost a logical being. And he knew the logical reason behind it.

Spock was usually one to speak his mind. He knew when to keep quiet, but he did know that it was better to say what needed to be said rather than bite one's tongue.

_Better said than done,_ Spock thought. Illogical but true.

Spock had decided, in that second when Kirk was turned away and not a single gaze was upon him, that _showing_ was a valid way of _saying._

He kept his grip just tight enough to be deliberate when he reached out and placed his hand on Kirk's arm.

"Good morning, Captain," Spock said, his voice soft. Kirk turned sharply, an inquisitive tilt to his head as he gave Spock a bemused smile.

"Why, Mr. Spock, a good morning to you too," he said, absently patting Spock's hand with his own before heading for his Captain's chair.

Spock stood, his hand still in the air, while his mind started shouting **_"more, more, more!"_**

* * *

"You see, Spock never says good morning. We're in _space,_ goddamnit! There is no morning! He's being… his perfect, logical self. And I got used to that. He would never say good morning to me. Instead, it would be something along the lines of 'welcome,' or sometimes 'captain on the bridge.'"

Kirk stopped again, rubbing his mouth absently as he glanced around the room.

"Instance two. Mere hours after instance one. I was heading down to the transporter room to outfit the away team…"

* * *

"Captain, I must ask that I have a moment alone with you before you leave," Spock said as Kirk started down the hall after stepping off the turbolift.

And there was the hand again. Gentle enough for Kirk to know that he was being deliberate. This time, a thumb stoked his arm as he talked, comfort, maybe? Kirk flicked his eyes between the hall and Spock.

"We are alone, Mr. Spock, you may speak freely," Kirk said, running his tongue along his lips.

Spock must not have believed that, because he dragged Kirk into the nearest room that opened automatically.

Inside, it was dimly lit. It was a cargo room, stacks and shelves full of containers lined the walls and took up most of the floor space. Kirk had to shuffle closer to Spocl to make sure he didn't fall.

"What was it you wanted to say, Spock?" kirk said, quiet and breathy. He gazed up at Spock, his dark eyes glittering in the low light.

"Jim…" Spock started. He brought his other hand up to Kirk's arm, now gently holding him. Kirk felt his breath catch. Spock looked like he was holding himself back, like he was making himself do this. Or… _not_ do something.

"Jim, this is a dangerous mission. Possibly the most dangerous thus far. Please, be careful. If you do not return--" Spock shut his mouth with a click, setting his jaw abruptly.

Kirk opened his mouth to speak, to tell Spock that it would be okay, really.

Spock bent over and slid his hands around Kirk's back, wrapping him in a tender hug.

Kirk could feel his legs give out under him.

* * *

"It was embarrassing! I stumbled and fell against a crate. I'm pretty sure I spooked Mr. Spock, he practically bolted from the room. I cannot figure out what's going on with him. It doesn't add up. Maybe I'm just not looking at it from the right angle."

He turned on his heel and resumed pacing, this time his hands were free and waving about. It helped him think, having freedom of movement. He didn't know how Spock could stand all day with his hands quiet and still behind his back.

Except lately, they'd been wandering. Usually to Kirk's arms, sometimes his back.

It was like one big confusing role reversal.

"Instance three. Fifteen minutes ago."

* * *

Spock was-- well, Kirk could only describe it as overjoyed-- to see the away team back in one piece. Kirk had a small scratch on his cheek hut that was the extent of their injuries. Everyone was pleasantly surprised.

The transporter room cleared quickly, the rest of the party wanting to get back to their stations and tell the exciting tale of their mission.

Kirk stayed behind, kicking the dirt off his boots and letting Bones poke at his ribs and gripe about how much pain he'd be in later if he didn't tell Bones if he had any other injuries.

Spock waited patiently until Bones left with a click of his tongue and a halfway satisfied glance back at Kirk.

"Captain," Spock said in lieu of a greeting. Kirk looked up at him, a big grin on his face.

"Look at me, Spock, I'm fine," he said. "No need for all your worries. Even if it was appreciated…"

Spock inclined his head. "Of course, Captain," he said. He stepped forward, closer now than they'd been even in the cargo closet.

"Captain. As you know I am only _half_ Vulcan."

Kirk frowned. "I do know that. You aren't usually one to point it out, however," he said. He looked up at Spock expectantly.

"My human half, my instincts and emotions, sometimes rise to the surface of my mind. And I am powerless-- or, rather, I have no desire to suppress them."

Kirk took a small step back. His boot hit the transporter control. Spock matched his step, almost looming over him. But Kirk wasn't scared, nor intimidated. He _never_ was, with Spock. He could feel the breath leave him.

"And, Mr. Spock? Are you going to-- I mean, _are_ you acting on those impulses?" He watched Spock's eyes, the way they roamed over his face.

"Yes."

Spocl leaned down and placed a kiss on the corner of Kirk's mouth, soft and chaste and something that left Kirk breathless. Spock left the room like he was fleeing from conflict.

Kirk scrunched his eyes shut for a moment. Was he dreaming? Had he been dreaming this whole time? What did it all mean? Was he being oblivious?

* * *

"Am I being oblivious? I don't know. I think.. I think I have to talk to him. Of course I do. I don't know how I feel about that. I might faint."

Kirk slumped back down into the chair at his desk and switched off the recorder.

He would have to talk to Spock. But what if he ruined everything? What if he assumed, as he did, that Spock did those things out of-- affection? And he offended Spock or broke their friendship? He didn't want it to end over this.

He didn't want to lose Spock.

Not when he himself harbored feelings for him. Kirk would be fine-- well, he'd live-- if he had to bury his feelings and pretend they didn't exist.

He'd rather not take chances. The nearest starbase was pretty far off. If Spock wanted to transfer, it would be a long, awkward trip.

Spock didn't usually burst into his quarters unannounced. He waited patiently for Kirk.

Not today, apparently.

Spock swooped in like a bird of prey and sat himself down on the other side of the desk.

"Captain. I believe I owe you an explanation," he said. Kirk raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, I believe you do," he said simply.

"Captain, I do not know what I am to you, if I am a friend or-- or something else, I--"

Kirk put up a hand.

"Would you first, if you please, tell me… what am _I_ to _you?"_

Spock paused. He closed his mouth, folded his hand on his lap.

"Who are you to me? Everything." Spock whispered. Kirk froze, but stayed quiet.

_"Everything._

You are my anchor, when I drift.

You give me solace, give me refuge when I am trapped in my own mind.

You remind me… where my heart is.

You let me be… _better._

You stand back and let me be exactly what I have always tried to be.

_Me._

Unburdened by homes, uninfluenced by parents. You guide me with one hand, point towards the stars with the other and you let me come. You let me follow in my own time.

You are everything."

A pause. A breath. Kirk gazed at Spock, his lips parted in awe.

"Jim, I--"

Kirk shook his head, trying to hide a wide grin making its way across his face. "No no, Spock, you don't have to--"

Spock leveled him with a gaze, something in it Kirk hadn't seen before. Or maybe he had, but he never noticed it before.

"I _love you,_ Jim. Logically."

Kirk laughed. Not malicious, just pure, genuine joy. "Ah. Logically. Always, Spock." He leaned across the desk and took Spock's hand in his own.

"I love you too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't forget to leave a comment and kudos!!
> 
> And find me on Tumblr @voiid-vagabond where you can leave me a prompt!!


	3. Tarsus IV... What a shitshow, right??

Jim froze, his wide, horrified gaze trained on Thomas, the white, vitreous fluid from his eye seeping between his fingers as he doubled over, screaming his throat raw from agony. Every drop of white hit the floor with almost a snap. 

Plik.

_ Plik. _

**_Plik._ **

The sound overtook him, drowning out the screams and turning them to a white noise. The walls of the room began to shift and pulsate like the pounding in his head.

**_Bang bang bang_ ** went his head.

**_Bang bang bang_ ** went the men behind the door.

Jim balled up his fists and squinted against the hammering behind his eyes. Kodos stood, the knife still in his hand, shimmering with blood and--

He rushed forward, the pounding and screaming and the snap of the droplets hitting the ground all behind him as he grabbed the knife and sent it into Kodo's chest. His momentum pressed the tip of the blade against Kodos' sternum and he  _ pushed. _

Jim swore he could hear the  _ crack _ of shattering bone.

And then the door broke off its hinges and six men with phasers rushed in.

Kodos stumbled backwards, his eyes wide with panic and his mouth hanging open as a single scream ripped itself from his lungs.

He hit the desk heavily, upsetting the candleholder and sending the five candles cascading to the floor. The six men with phasers gathered up the two helpless children who just  _ didn't understand what survival was. _

Jim lost feeling in his left arm when it was twisted behind his back to be put in handcuffs. He turned his head and saw poor Thomas, his hands being ripped away from his face as he screamed and fought, his shouts dissolving into a sobbing mantra of  _ "no no no no no." _ His face was a mess of torn flesh and blood. Jim winced away.

Kodos lay still, draped over the desk like a Renaissance martyr. The knife stuck out from his unmoving chest, stiff and cold, smeared with the red ice that flowed from his veins.

Jim offered no further resistance as he was dragged from the room. But not before the smell of smoke permeated the room and gave the six men with phasers pause.

"What is that smell?" the one holding Thomas wondered. Jim snapped his gaze over to the candles on the floor.

He watched in mute fascination as the curtains erupted in bright, fluttering flames. A sick, orange glow came over his vision, smoke and flame a far-off care as he watched the edge of the fire creep towards the desk.

Jim couldn't help but grin as he was finally dragged from the room.

**_Justice._ **

This was  _ not justice, _ but fuck, did it feel good.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment and kudos!! You do not know how much they mean to me!! ❤️❤️❤️


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